


Coven of Dreams

by Pfain Ryder (Cat_Moon)



Series: Angelfire Universe [7]
Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-28 18:37:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19400032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Pfain%20Ryder
Summary: It's a real eye-opener for Sam when he leaps into a coven of gay witches.  The fact that one of them resembles Al only complicates the leap.  Can he do what he has to do?   Angelfire leap.





	Coven of Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This story was roughly inspired by "The Dunwich Horror", with Dean Stockwell.
> 
> Although sensitive individuals may be uncomfortable with events at the beginning of the story, all is not what it seems. Wasn't written as non-con.

September 25, 1991:

When Sam became aware of his new surroundings, he was being held fast by two angry looking men in dark blue cloaks. Others in similar garb stood around a clearing, waiting. For what? Someone; they were waiting for someone...though he didn't know who. He was dressed as they, but by the way they were watching him, their eyes told him he was an outsider.

It was a forest somewhere, anywhere. Night sounds took on a ghostly echo. Cult...his mind snatched the one coherent thought. Fear rose. Al...where are you? He tensed as a murmur broke through the silence of the followers.

"Now, you're going to know your fate," one of his captors whispered to him. "The Master is coming."

So he's who I'm waiting for, Sam realized. He didn't speak, vocal cords frozen. The air felt charged with some kind of infinite power, as the crowd parted to reveal...

He had arrived.

His own cloak was as black as the night beyond the torch illumination. Black and curly hair framed a cherub face, yet the eyes glittered evilly in the flames. This was no angel, despite the almost sweet face. Those eyes bore into him.

Sam let out a gasp, as recognition slammed into him with the force of a physical impact. The man before him was nearly an exact duplicate of a young Al Calavicci.

"So. You're not one of us, Isip," the Master began, making his way closer to the prisoner. His voice raised the hair at the nape of Sam's neck. It was soft end sensual; a voice which could tranquilize, turn will to vapor. "Who are you?" He came to stand in front of him. "Why are you really here among us?" He ran a finger down the portion of skin exposed by Sam's partially open cloak.

"I--don't know," Sam stammered, not quite sure what was being asked of him. Was the Master speaking of something this Isip was guilty of, or could they somehow know he wasn't Isip?

"You don't know," Master repeated in his unique, deceptively calm tone. The way he was appraising Sam hungrily sent warning bells off in his stomach.

"He's not going to talk," said one of the men who still held him.

Apparently he was out of turn, for the Master sent a glare in his direction which could have frozen the flames.

The man cringed. "Forgive me, Master."

"He'll talk to me. Won't you?" Master cupped Sam's cheek in his hand. It was a surprisingly gentle and warm touch. It stole his breath.

"Yes," he heard someone answer. From somewhere a million miles away, he recognized it as his own voice.

"Good." In an unexpected move, he ripped the robe completely open.

Sam's eyes widened. He felt himself being appraised, felt those eyes burn into his soul.

The Master addressed his attendants. "Bring him to my chamber." With one last caress of the bare chest, he was gone.

Sam sagged, as if just waking up from a dream. He heard the night-sounds again, felt the slap of the chilly autumn air against the exposed skin where fire had recently trailed a path.

"The Master awaits."

XXX

Sam found himself alone in a tent. A soft glow was provided by candles placed around the room. A bed covered with many pillows took up one wall. The only other piece of furniture was a dresser, the top comprising some sort of altar. They'd taken his robe; apparently an outsider wasn't deemed fit to be so adorned. The only thing between him and nature was a pair of skimpy black briefs.

He waited, anticipation dancing along his nerve-ending despite himself. It was an eternity, yet a micro-second, before the Master joined him.

They stared at one another. The Master smiled, and Sam felt as if he was melting like the wax around them.

"So, here we are, at last," Master said. "Shall you tell me what I want to know, or shall I torture it out of you?"

He approached Sam, eyes roving up and down his body. Which, to his horror, began to respond to the web the man wove. The Master--Al, to him this was Al and his body was coming alive to that--to Al. The reality of what was happening rushed into him, centering below his waist. Even the fear born from his own response was intoxicating.

As the Master moved closer, Sam backed away, shaking his head in self-denial. "Don't do this, please," he begged. A solid object stopped his retreat, he'd backed into the dresser and was effectively trapped.

The man stood no more than a hair's length away. In a ceremonial gesture, he loosened the tie on his cloak, dropping it to the floor. He was naked underneath.

Sam closed his eyes, but couldn't shut out the sensations overwhelming him. He felt hands come up to lightly stroke down his sides. "No..." he moaned helplessly.

"That's not what your body is saying to me." The silky voice did its own caressing.

Sam ached with repressed desire. He fought to bring raging emotions under control before they sentenced him to hell, or heaven, as they seemed truly the same thing. He shook with the hunger which had taken control.

"You want me," another vocal caress said. "Take them off!" the tone turned to one of harsh command.

And he obeyed instantly.

Then hands were roaming his body, causing violent shivers. Familiar eyes looked into his soul, exposing it to the probing. So strange, everything in him screamed Al, yet it wasn't.

The hands moved behind him, massaging his ass, and he knew himself lost to the irresistible power being generated between them. Lips were coming closer, and suddenly he had to taste their sweetness or die. With a strangled cry, he threw himself into the kiss, loosing passion hitherto unimaginable, pulling their bodies into almost violent contact.

Then, from somewhere he found the strength to pull free from the mouth claiming his so expertly.

"Don't fight it baby, set it free. Set yourself free." It made perfect sense. He needed to know the forbidden sweetness. Their bodies molded together again as if of their own volition, and tumbled onto the bed without separating. It's softness welcomed them. Sam longed to hear that voice again, whispering words of Eros, but to do so would have meant giving up the feel of the tongue exploring his mouth relentlessly. He lost himself in the senses, at one with nature, his mind an unnecessary accessory.

The mouth left his, and he was about to utter a cry of protest, when it claimed him elsewhere. He was plunged into space, a billion stars illuminating the void. The brightest of them by far, was named Megrez. He was part of the night-sounds now. It was as if the Master was inside of him, bringing him to the very bring of annihilation, only to deny him the deliverance. He begged for the mercy of release.

Then, as if listening to some primeval signal, he was abandoned. Trying to force coherent words to protest, he stared into glittering eyes that seemed as infinite as the universe. They knew him as no man before, saw deep into the part of him locked away, drew that primitive part out him out into the world. Embraced and rejoiced and worshiped it, not as something wicked, but as the most elemental part of all that is. Accepting, not as he had always turned away.

Then, he was entered.

He spun away from earth again, opening all of himself to his possessor. Cries were torn from the depth of his soul, and he knew a fierce joy as he pleaded for more, for release, for death -- everything except mercy. He was the waves pounded into the shore over and over again. Lightning seeking a conductor. The center of a volcano, flames erupting. The universal big bang.

The universe winked out.

Awareness returned slowly. First, the sound of his heartbeat, than that faded and he could make out other sounds, sensations. His body was alive, vibrating still from the storm that had ravaged it. He found his head pillowed on a chest. Solid reality. No mind-born fantasy.

"Who is Al?"

The question hit like a bucket of ice cold reality. The sated hum changed to violent tremors which threatened to rip him apart. There could be only one answer, though he hadn't been aware of it. In that one perfect moment, it had been Al's name torn from his lips.

He was held, rocked, as gentle murmurs tried to calm. "Hush, Isip, nothing can hurt you here."

He dared look up to that face. "Call me Sam?" he asked timidly.

"Samuel. It has a strong aura. In Hebrew, it means heard or asked of God." Master continued to stroke his forehead comfortingly. "Tell me about him," the voice coaxed.

"He--I--" he tried vainly to sort out all his feelings for Al.

"He must be someone very special."

"He's--everything."

"Love is not something to cry for." The Master wiped his tears away with tender fingertips. "Love is something to cherish and rejoice in. It's a gift from the Goddess."

The voice was having a calming effect on him, and he relaxed into it. "We haven't...I mean, we're friends," he finished lamely.

"Friends make the best lovers." Master smiled, and he drowned in it willingly. "You're very lucky, Samuel. Never forget that."

"We...haven't..." _Have we?_

"But you will one day. When the time is right."

"Do you 'know' things?" he asked into those eyes.

"Only what I can see in a person's soul, and the wisdom I gain by listening to the earth. Now, my Samuel, why have you come among us?"

"I'm not sure," he answered truthfully. "If I'm here, it means I'm to put right a wrong. Help someone, somehow. Maybe one of your people. I don't know yet, honest."

"Ah, this is what 'God' has asked of Samuel."

He stared at the Master in amazement. "Or Time, or Fate, or..."

"It's all the same thing, you know."

"No, I don't. Teach me," Sam said suddenly, surprising himself.

The Master laughed, a bubbly sound. "And I'll help you find your wrong to right, but only if you teach me something as well."

"What?"

"That's not for us to know yet."

"Does this mean you're not going to make me a human sacrifice?" Sam ventured.

Master laughed heartily, hand smoothing circles on his chest. "That would be a cosmic waste of grand proportion."

Sam laughed with him, delighted with the unique way he spoke. Very unlike Al; it was one of their few differences, and he enjoyed the novelty of it.

"You have a lot to learn about Pagans. Welcome to the Coven of Dreams. I admit we have a flare for the dramatic."

"You're a coven of gay witches," Sam said in discovery.

"Or, as we prefer to be called, Wiccans," he nodded. "This is not a Manson-type cult. We're actually quite harmless."

He felt himself lost in those probing eyes again. "I don't know about that, I think you're very dangerous..."

"For you," Master agreed, leaning in for another kiss.

XXX

Al stepped through the imaging chamber door into Sam's present, taking a moment to get his bearings. Dawn was just beginning to cast her pale light on that part of the world. He was in some sort of tent. Sam was alone in a bed, and from the looks of things, just waking up. He watched as Sam stretched expansively.

"Sam?"

"Yes, Master?" Turning towards the voice, he jumped when he saw the speaker. "I -- didn't know it was you," he began, flustered. "I mean, I though it was--"

Al wasn't sure he wanted to know what Sam meant. Already getting a bad feeling about this leap, Sam's odd behavior didn't help. "I like it," he commented, opting for an amused front for the time being.

"It's not funny," Sam started. "Why am I here, Al?" he asked, eyes darting around in a nervous manner.

"Not sure yet, kiddo." Whatever was wrong here, Al decided to keep his own attitude light. "You got into the middle of a weird one this time," he admitted. "Your name is John Isip and you're an investigative reporter. John does a very unfavorable story on this Coven."

"So that's why they were so angry with him--me. They found out he was a plant."

"They know?" Al began, surprised. "What are they planning to do about it?" he asked nervously.

"I..." Sam hesitated, in thought. "...don't know."

Things were going from bad to worse. "You could be in some trouble here. Cults don't take kindly to spies." Another thought sprung to mind. "You're okay, aren't you, they didn't do anything to you?" Concern roughened his voice.

"Uh, I'm fine, great." Sam studied the quilt which covered his nakedness. "They've been very...hospitable."

"Watch it," Al warned. "That's an even worse sign. You remember all those stories about cultists keeping people prisoner against their will, and using mind control and drugs on them?"

"They're not like that," San defended.

His eyes narrowed. "How can you be so sure? That's not what it said in the article."

"They're not cultists, they're witches."

"They told you," Al guessed, and Sam nodded. "These type of crazies are dangerous. They can make a person believe whatever they want. Be careful of what you eat, drink, just be careful!" Sam was taking things entirely too calmly, and he had to get through to him somehow.

"I'm sorry, Al. I'll be careful."

He didn't like that, either. It gave him the impression Sam was only saying what he knew he wanted to hear. "Sam, listen to me very carefully. You - are - in - danger. They may have already drugged you, judging from the way you're acting."

"I'm fine, Al. Don't worry, please. Trust me." His voice lowered to nearly a whisper. "I don't want you to worry about me. Just find out what I'm here to do."

"Promise you'll keep your eyes open."

"Al, I promise," he vowed, finally meeting his friend's eyes.

Al nodded in acceptance. It was all he could do at the moment. He didn't want to leave Sam alone for even a minute, but had to find out more about what was going on, and check with Ziggy on the probabilities of drugs being used. The only way to help, as reluctant as he was, was to leave. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

XXX

Sam watched Al step through his doorway, guilty relief washing over him. He'd done all he could to try and shake off the weird deja vu seeing Al after the previous night had caused. He hadn't known how to act, and his friend noticed something was wrong. Al made it obvious how worried he was. But was he right? A knot of unease crept into Sam's mind. There was no doubt that Master was adept in the art of persuasion, but then, if Al ever approached him in the same manner, wouldn't he react the same? Could they be doing something to his mind? It was a concept so frightening, he preferred to believe Al wrong. After all, it wouldn't be the first time...

Did that mean he was trusting the Master over Al? Definitely something he didn't want to acknowledge.

"Don't tell me you're going to sleep all day?" a cheerful voice inquired.

Sam turned, smile already on his face. The Master lounged in the doorway, wearing jeans and a black cotton shirt. "You're dressed normal."

Master laughed. "Surely you didn't think I walk around in robes all day? Or maybe it threw you that I look so 'normal'. Only an illusion, never fear." He approached the bed, unceremoniously pulling the quilt off Sam.

He experienced a moment of shyness in the broad light of day, but the other light, the one in the man's eyes, put him at ease just as quickly.

"Now, get dressed and come play. I've had your clothes brought over." He indicated the bottom drawer of the dresser.

"I'm staying here?" he asked timidly.

"Do you want to?"

"Yes." He was nearly surprised by his lack of hesitation. The smile he earned by saying yes made him glad of his quick answer.

XXX

They strolled through the forest, holding hands and talking easily. It was a unique experience for Sam, being so open and tender with another man. It gave him a freedom and peace he reveled in.

"Tell me about the coven?" he asked.

"I created it by combining my own personal beliefs with those of Pagan religion. We've come here for a three day retreat, coinciding with the full moon the night before last. As much as possible, we like to spend time re-tuning ourselves to nature regularly. Look--" They'd come to a waterfall, nestled in its nook of green. "Would you care for a swim?"

"Sure," Sam enthused. He couldn't ever remember seeing a more beautiful sight. "It's magnificent."

"Worshiping nature in all her glory, is what we're all about. We are a part of nature, everything is one. By destroying this planet, we're ultimately destroying ourselves."

"You sound like Al. He's always complaining about what man is doing to the Earth."

"That speaks well of him. You'll find respect for the Earth foremost in any Wiccan. It's not a man-made religion." He began stripping for the swim.

Sam followed suit, all traces of shyness floating away on the billowing clouds above. He was more aware and alive than at any other time in his life. "Yet they call you Master," he brought up.

"They choose to. I earned the title." He made his way down to the water.

They played under the powerful spray like children. The clear, crisp water made skin tingle with refreshing sensation. Yet, happy as he felt, it was a bittersweet afternoon for Sam. Guilt nagged at him, picking odd moments to strike. Everything was happening so fast, he couldn't get a fix on things. He knew he was probably transferring his feelings for Al to the Master. By doing that, he wasn't leaving much for Al; worse, ended up angry with him. The luxury of conversation was lost to them because he couldn't open up to Al until he was sure of what he wanted to say, what he was truly feeling. It was a lot easier to just go with the flow and enjoy. So he tried not to let it mar his enjoyment of the moment, a gift he would cherish always, no matter what tomorrow brought.

When it became too chilly, they gathered their clothes and sat on the bank.

"So, Samuel, why do you right wrongs?" the Master asked after a period of tranquil silence.

"If I told you, would you think I was crazy?"

"You're worried about the Master of a Wiccan coven thinking you're crazy? You must be one of us after all."

Sam laughed. "I'm not John Isip, even though I look like him to you. I'm Sam Beckett."

"I knew you weren't him. I saw it in your eyes," he answered raised eyebrows. "I don't claim to understand it, but there are more things on this Earth..."

"You can say that again," Sam agreed. "I right wrongs because I have to. If I don't, I won't get home. Believe it or not, I'm a quantum physicist. My time travel experiment went out of my control and into...we don't know what force is directing me. Sounds like science fiction, huh?"

"Not to me," Master disagreed. "You don't realize who we are. If you read Wiccan books and magazines, you'd see that many of your scientific theories are something we've been aware of for years. As a matter of fact, they both go hand in hand."

"Teach me more about that?" he implored Master.

"I'll teach you about the metaphysical, and you can teach me more about the quantum physics."

"Sounds like a fair trade to me," he agreed. "I could also use some help trying to figure out why I'm here."

"They never make it easy, do they? Well, let's put our heads together..." He followed through literally, ruffling Sam's hair.

"Can you think of anyone in the Coven who is having any kind of troubles?"

"David," Master said at once. "He's thinking of leaving us. The strain of bouncing around in two closets is beginning to take its toll on him."

"That could be it...I'll have Al check it out." Sam noted the man's confused look. "He's not here, exactly. I can see and hear him as a hologram. He's my only contact with my own time."

"But you can't touch."

Sam looked away, not answering.

"Seeing visions and talking to spirits?" Master teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. "They burned people at the stake for that."

"He's more like my guardian angel." Sam smiled fondly. "But he's not gonna be crazy about this idea."

"Why?"

"They think this is some kind of evil cult, because of the article that Isip wrote--writes for a magazine."

"In that case, I hope you're here to stop it."

"I don't see how I can. No matter what I do while I'm here, as soon as he leaps back, he'll probably write it."

"We'll think of something," Master assured.

"What were you going to do with him, anyway?" Sam asked casually.

With a gleam in his eye, Master slipped an arm around him. "Fuck the shit out of him." He pulled Sam even closer. "Seriously, the guys just got carried away and angry. That's one of the negative emotions we must try hard to overcome, especially being minorities. We can't let them drag us down to their level of hatred and destruction. We must always approach anything of nature with wonder and joy. Look around you! What a beautiful world we've been given, why do so many want to turn it into a prison?"

"We have enough prisons inside ourselves," Sam added sadly.

"Always made by us. Luckily, we also have the keys."

Sam shook his head. "Except some of us lost ours."

"It's there if you want it. When you want it," he was told.

"You make it sound so simple and right. How can they call you devil worshipers?"

"That's a very good question. Especially since Wiccans have never believed in the devil. Pretty hard to worship something you don't believe in, wouldn't you say?"

Sam nodded, absorbing all he'd heard.

"Most religions have had a history of trying to convert everyone to their beliefs. Claiming devil worship and possession was a way of controlling that which they didn't understand, that frightened them."

"I'm beginning to understand."

"We preach love, not hate. Pure, in all its forms." He regarded Sam intently. "I've heard all you've said, and some you haven't. I'd like to ask you a question."

"Ask me anything."

"Are you gay?"

"I don't know what I am..." Sam answered honestly. What other answer was there? Swiss-cheesing meant he found only too much cause to wonder who he truly was.

"Do things seem...different in the light of day?"

For an answer, of his own free will and on his own initiative, Sam made the first move toward another man. He pulled the Master into a kiss that promised to turn into much more.

XXX

The scene Al stepped into reassured him even less than the last one. The Covenists sat in a circle, chanting. They were dressed in robes; candles and incense added to the atmosphere. And, Sam was part of it.

"Sam?" he asked hesitantly. Alarmed when he received no response, he stood in front of him, putting himself in the middle of the circle. "Sam!"

Sam opened his eyes, noting him, then resolutely closed them again.

"Sam, what the hell is going on here?! Are you all right?"

A huge put-upon sigh was all the answer he got.

"Dammit Sam, answer me!" He waved his arms around to try and get the time traveler's attention."

Finally Sam opened his eyes, sighed again, and rose. As he walked away, Al noticed the Master watching Sam leave. Then the eyes turned to him, all that was visible out of the hood of the robe. He had the eerie feeling he was being watched also. He joined his friend hastily.

"Al, I was on the verge of a state of deep meditation when you distracted me," he began irritably.

"Meditation?" he echoed.

"Yes, you do remember it, right? Except for the incense, robes and candles, it's no different from what I used to do for martial arts training."

."Oh. Sorry, I thought..." What good voicing what Sam already knew? He seemed bound and determined to take several years off his best friend's life.

"I know what you thought," Sam confirmed.

"That Master gives me the creeps. I swear he knew I was there."

"Probably," Sam agreed. "What did you find out?"

"Well, there's this guy named David."

"So it is David. I'm here to keep him in the Coven, right?"

"How'd you know that?" Al asked in awe.

"The Master mentioned that David was having personal problems," Sam answered vaguely. "What originally happened to him?"

"Well, he didn't do much of anything, actually. Ziggy's sure you're here to help him so that he does do something... the only problem is he refuses to give us a guess as to what."

"What else is new," Sam commented.

The pause which followed was awkward for Al, and he had a feeling he wasn't alone. He considered his next words carefully. "Guess you've figured out by now, they're all gay." By now? It was certain Sam knew long before he himself found out, which was moments before when Ziggy finally decided to impart that information.

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I kinda got that impression.

He took the plunge, and spoke what was on his mind. "Sam, are you sure they're...I mean, they're not into any weird stuff, are they?"

"Why, because they're gay? Al, I'm surprised at you! I've never known you to be a bigot."

"I didn't say that!" he defended himself, flustered. "That's not what I meant."

"Oh, just because they're witches, they're automatically evil."

"Why are you twisting my words around?" Al asked. "No, I know that's not true. But you gotta admit, Sam, it looks really strange over there."

"To you."

"Okay, so I was swayed by the article, and my concern for you."

"Al, did you ever get the feeling that you're taking this protecting me stuff too far?"

Al turned away, but spoke firmly. "No." He turned back. "If I could really be there for you, it'd be one thing. But with all my help as a hologram, you're still alone out there."

"I've never felt like it. As a matter of fact, I haven't ever felt alone since the day I met you. And I considered what you said, carefully. I decided my instincts were right."

"I had a long talk with Theresa," Al admitted finally. "She told me some fascinating things about Wicca. You wouldn't believe some of the weird connections to--"

"Quantum physics?" Sam finished for him.

"I guess we're just as crazy as they are," he concluded. "But my instincts tell me there is something going on here that I don't know about. Am I wrong?"

He was denied an answer by Fate. The Master ran over, calling Sam.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"David is missing. He's always late for meditation, but never vanishes like this. I feel that something is wrong. Under the circumstances, I think we should find him.

"You're right. Al, can Ziggy lock onto David?"

Al regarded Sam a moment before answering. Sam was talking to him in front of the Master, and with too much casualness. He'd told him his real name, as well. Just what else had he told that man?

"We never had a fix on him in the first place, but I'll try my best."

"I know where he might be, his favorite spot," Master suggested.

"Let's go."

XXX

Al came into the scene a little late, hesitant, unsure of what he'd find this time. The three men sat on the ground in a clearing. A razor blade lay beside them, and Sam's robe had been torn to provide a bandage for David's wrist. It didn't look bad, he was lucid and not much blood had soaked through the cloth. He decided to observe from a distance, who knew if David would sense him too, and he didn't want to further upset the disturbed young man.

"This isn't the way of the Goddess, David. You've shown disrespect for her gift." The Master had an arm around his shoulders, and spoke in a calming voice. The voice was vaguely familiar.

"Let's talk about it," Sam tried to reason.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Suicide isn't the answer!" Sam insisted.

"It's the only one for me," David replied. He was shaking, and would not meet their eyes.

"Why?" Sam pulled his chin up to force his attention. "Because you're gay, and a witch?" David wrenched away. "If you believe in yourself, then you should be proud of what you are," Sam continued. "This says you're ashamed, that you think it's wrong."

"Do you see evil in yourself?" Master asked. "Do you believe them over all we've learned since joining together?"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

"Because then we're all evil, and none of us deserves to live."

"No!" David yelled at his Master's words.

"Then make us understand," Sam implored while checking the wound.

"My life is a lie."

"Then live the truth, David," Master told him.

"I'm scared," he admitted.

Sam took his shoulders. "We're all scared, that's part of living. It takes guts to stand up for what you believe in. No one said it was going to be easy. You're not evil, you're special. Those of us with the greatest gifts have it the hardest. Because we're better than they are, and we can prove it."

"That's easy for you to say," David glared at him accusingly. "You who came among us and took over." He looked from Sam to the Master meaningfully.

"Sam won't be with us for very long," Master said, urging him closer. "But when he's gone, we'll hold him in our hearts forever. He's not one of us, yet he speaks his feelings freely. You, have no excuse."

Al was having trouble following the strange conversation, but its meaning was slowly beginning to become clear. The Master's next words helped confirm his fears.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you? Tell you that I loved you? How could I, you were always with him!" David tried to move out of the embrace.

So that was what Sam hadn't told him, that the Master himself had the hots for the leaper. It must have been a tacky situation, but Sam was getting good at getting himself out of those over the leaps. Al pushed away the thread of something he refused to analyze. The thoughts made him uneasy.

"Were you and he..." Sam let it trail off.

"He never told me," Master said, ill at ease.

"You..." David gazed at him earnestly. "You're _everything_. How could I tell you I love you?"

"David," Sam sought his attention. "Love is never wrong. Hate and resentment are."

The Master took David by the shoulders. "We have no use for those too cowardly to live true and honest in the ideal of the Goddess. You have a choice. Go and live among them in fear and dishonesty, never being accepted. Or stay with us. With me."

Tears coursed down the man's cheeks. "I'm sorry!" He threw himself into his Master's arms, sobbing. "I can make you proud of me, please give me the chance...I'd do anything for you!"

_Where have I heard that line before?_ Al wondered silently, shaking his head to clear it from the intense concentration he had been giving the scene.

"Is he going to be okay, Al?"

He almost dropped the handlink. Sam's eyes were on him, glittering in the twilight.

Sam smiled slightly at his reaction. "You forgot something."

He didn't need elaboration. Sam had hinted in the past that he could sense Al's presence, even when he didn't make it known. Turning his attention to the link, there was new information waiting for him. It wasn't good news. He watched Sam carefully. "Yeah, David's going to be fine. But we have to talk. Now."

They glanced at the other two, they were too involved in each other to notice anyone else.

Sam got up and followed him to a safe distance away. "What is it?"

He was having trouble meeting Sam's gaze. Why it should be so difficult to say the words, he didn't know, but maybe he didn't want to find out, either. "It's about the Master."

"What is it?"

Sam was waiting with wide eyes, and Al knew his chagrin was plain to see. Sam was getting better at picking up on his moods again, making it harder to hide them. Then, abruptly, he realized what the elusive puzzle piece he was missing was. He knew who the Master reminded him of. It was _himself_. "Oh God," he rubbed a hand over his face. That was why Sam seemed so attached to the man.

"Al -- tell me!"

"He goes rock climbing tomorrow, slips and falls. He gets killed, Sam."

"No..."

Al couldn't take looking at that face, so full of wounded denial. "Yes. And you're not here to prevent it."

"But if I was only here to help David, I would have leaped," he insisted. "So I must be--"

"You _were_ here to help David. But by helping him, you changed history. You'll end up making wrong a right, the Master won't die because David's here to save him. And David's life will go down the tubes anyway."

"How can losing the man he loves possibly help him?" Sam asked. "If I lost..." he fell silent.

"Sam, you're here to see to it that the Master dies." He expected screaming, crying, denial, got silence instead. The look on Sam's face was worse than any of those would be. "Sam--"

"I need to be alone. Please." He stood in the spot, forcing a promise out of Al.

All he could think about was his fear that Sam wouldn't be able to complete the leap. Knowing there was nothing else he could do, he made himself nod, watching as Sam ran off.

XXX

It was a promise Al couldn't keep, it would tear him apart. When a way around it presented itself, he jumped at the chance. He hung around the camp. The Master left David to get some rest, and, concerned with Sam's disappearing act, went to find him. When he did, Al reasoned, Sam wouldn't be alone, so the promise wouldn't apply anymore.

He found them sitting at the foot of a waterfall. Sam was pulling out clumps of earth and grass with his fist, throwing them aimlessly.

"Samuel, talk to me. I told David that you spoke your heart, tell me."

"I can't." The burden of his secret was eating at him visibly.

"That's not true. You can tell me anything, I thought the past days proved that to you?" Master asked.

Sam hesitated, but not for long. "Ziggy says you are going to die tomorrow, and that I'm not supposed to stop it!" he yelled in agony.

Al stared at him, not believing his ears. Fear trickled into his being as he envisioned his Sam, trapped here, forever.

"What are you talking about?" Master gripped Sam's forearms.

"I'm from the future, remember? It says you die."

The silence seemed like forever to Al, as he waited for the response.

"How?" the man finally asked.

"Huh?" Sam looked up through tear-filled eyes, too upset to understand the question.

"Do I die of natural causes, or hand of man?"

"Natural. You--"

The Master covered Sam's mouth with a hand. "No. You mustn't tell me. That's not for me to know."

Al relaxed slightly. He didn't think anything would have surprised him more. He was wrong.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, confused.

"It is our beliefs. What nature has meant to be, must not be tampered with. If you had told me it was an act of man, then it would have been preventable."

Al thought of the nightmares he'd had over the years, about the things they'd done to change history. Especially those involving life and death. Maybe they'd gotten lucky on some of those. He marveled at how calmly the Master took the news of his own death. Would he have had the same courage in his shoes? _For Sam? Any time..._

"What are you saying?" Sam cried, refusing to understand. I can't let you die!" He continued to pull out clumps of dirt with more force.

"Death is not the end! It just means it's time to move on. Nothing in nature dies, it just returns to nature in another form." He stilled Sam's hands from their digging. "That might be me you're ripping up and tossing aside so carelessly, did you ever think of that?" He coaxed a trembling smile from Sam. "See? It's not so terrible. Exciting, actually, the great unknown awaits." He pinned him with a stern stare. "I expect you to be strong."

Sam turned away from his gaze. "Why am I always being punished?" he whispered.

"You're not being punished!"

Al jumped at the unexpectedness of hearing his thoughts spoken aloud, in a voice so very much like his own. He cursed Time, Fate, anything that would make Sam hurt so much. It should have been him there comforting Sam, yet all he could do was watch the torment.

"It's an honor to be chosen for such a journey as yours," Master continued. "A gift. Don't think of the things you've lost, but of the things you've gained from the experience. Strength gained through hardship is the toughest kind to break. Remember what I've taught you. Don't let my last days on Earth in this form be for nothing."

_Nice touch,_ Al thought. Cruel, but effective. Hopefully it would ease some of Sam's pain, give him a promise to keep as it would David. His grudging respect of the man inched up a notch.

"Don't you see? We're all part of the grand scheme of things, and as such have our roles to play. Mine was to teach you and David something very important. I need to know you'll carry on in my memory. That's part of what love is all about."

Sam nodded solemnly. His voice was coarse with tears, but strong. "I promise, Master."

"This is your gift to me, Samuel."

With a strangled cry, Sam threw himself into the Master's arms. They welcomed him and the two bodies molded together in one last goodbye. As Al watched, Sam's mouth closed on the other in a passionate kiss, made all the more intense by the sorrow lacing it. They became one inseparable tangle of limbs.

"Oh my God...Sam..." Unable to take any more of what he was seeing, Al punched the button which would take him back to his own time.

When next aware of his surroundings, Al was sitting on the floor of the imaging chamber. Sorting through the mess Sam had made of his emotions was a chore. Had Sam known he was there and not cared, or was he too distracted to notice?

The similarities between himself and the Master were all too obvious to him, therefore, the implications of what he'd witnessed loomed in his mind. But what of Sam? He decided that in Sam's current state, his subconscious acted on it's own, without making those connections. And he hoped never would, that his friend would be spared from the truth. He had enough pain and loss to deal with without this...

But it left Al with his own feelings on the subject to explore. Being honest with himself, he knew how deep his love for Sam ran. It moved him like none before. But spiritual and physical weren't necessarily the same thing.

He looked up to the ceiling. "Please, spare him and let me deal with this?"

XXX

Dawn graced the landscape, turning the darkness into rays of light. The comforting blackness Sam had lain awake in all night was gone, leaving the harsh reality of the forward movement of nature he couldn't prevent.

The Master was gone from camp. With characteristic stubbornness, Sam went searching for what he did not want to find. Knowing he would do what he had to, yet unable to stop himself from wanting to be there...

The Master was walking along the precarious edge of the rocks which led to the waterfall. The place near where they'd made love the day before. The water there was shallow, too much so to risk a fall.

Sam held his breath, waiting silently. Praying.

The Master noticed him and held up a hand in greeting. It took his attention off of his footing at the wrong time. He slipped, falling to the mud below with a sickening thud.

" _NO_!" Sam screamed, running to the spot where he lay. Sparing the arriving Al a quick glance, he reached the Master and pulled him into his arms. He cried silently, knowing beside him, Al cried too.

The Master opened his eyes, looking at them. "Don't grieve, Samuel." His gaze centered on the hologram. "Al."

"Yes," he answered quietly.

Master nodded. "I understand now. I took good care of him for you."

"Thank you," Al whispered.

He reached out a weak hand to brush some of the tears from Sam's face. "My name is George Peunhall." His voice became faint and Sam had to put an ear to his mouth to hear. "Not Al Calavicci. Remember..." A small shudder, then he was still.

"No..." Sam sobbed, letting go of the lifeless body. He slumped at Al's feet, cast adrift.

Al slid to his knees in a gesture meant to bring them closer. "I'm sorry, Sam. I know you loved him, and I wish there was another way. If I could've..."

The look he speared Al with silenced him. Sam made a vow to himself, in deadly seriousness.

"David," Al began, trying to avoid the inevitable. "Took over the Coven, became an inspiration to many. He always honored George's memory. You did it, Sam."

"Yes, I did it. Again. What I was supposed to do, what was asked of me."

Al waited, saying nothing. By the look on his face, he knew something he wasn't going to like was coming.

Always honorable and heroic, that was Al. The concept was beginning to leave a bad taste in Sam's mouth. "But..." he continued, deceptively calm. Maybe he could even convince himself of his peace. "I am the Master of Time, I have the Accelerator. If you ever--ever--" Tears ran unchecked down his face. "If you ever die on me--"

"Sam!" Al tried to prevent the damning words. "Think about what you're saying, you can't--"

Maybe the words were dangerous. But if Master was right and the real God wasn't a cruel punishing God, then it was okay. "I'll bring you back, or die trying." He looked up at the sky. _"You hear that? You can have anything else, but you can't have him!!”_

His yell faded out, as the leap took him.

**the end**

9/28/91


End file.
